


Singing in the Dead of Night

by onlyapapermoon



Category: Glee
Genre: Animal Transformation, Bird/Human Hybrids, Body Horror, Bondage, Boypussy, Cages, Captivity, Drugged Sex, Egg Laying, Feminization, Gangbang, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Sexual Slavery, Transformation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3937522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyapapermoon/pseuds/onlyapapermoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out that Pavarotti isn't the only canary the Warblers keep. (Please keep the warnings in mind!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Whatever Kurt was lying on, it prickled. He made a muffled noise of protest and began to roll onto his side, but as he shifted, the sense of something being wrong began to emerge from the fog of unconsciousness. For some reason, the discomfort from the cold floor was equally sharp on every inch of his skin – even where clothing should have dulled it. Kurt’s eyes snapped open.  
  
The situation was not improved by the understanding of it. He really was naked, and the uncomfortable surface he was laying on was the grating on the floor of a giant cage. Kurt sat bolt upright and looked around in a panic. The cage itself was tall and domed, the size of a large room, and it was sitting inside of an even larger room. There were a few large mirrors on the sides of the cage and more standing inside of it. Each one taunted him with his own bare, terrified reflection. There was also something that looked like a ballet barre bolted to the floor of the cage and a shallow sunken tub in one corner, but Kurt didn’t bother to examine them in his search for means of escape. Equally useless were a few unidentifiable machines attached to the cage’s decoratively wrought bars and a pair of what looked like nicer versions of gym mats on the floor.   
  
Beyond the bars, a large glass dome directly above the cage gave the expansive room the look of an open courtyard, though there were no other windows and the doors leading out of the room were forbiddingly closed. Kurt couldn’t recall ever being in this room before, but he knew instinctively that he was still somewhere inside Dalton – honestly, nowhere else in Ohio would incorporate as much brickwork and wrought iron into its décor.  
  
It took a frenzied minute’s search to even spot the door leading out of the cage, a minute that had Kurt nearly hyperventilating as he tried to work out how he’d been brought in and, most importantly, how he could get out. He didn’t need to search his memory to remember who was responsible, though. Part of him was still rebelling against that knowledge and he wished he could make-believe it wasn’t true somehow – this couldn’t have been done by the boys who’d made a place for him in their prized choir, who’d given him a place to feel safe when safety was beginning to feel like a foreign concept.   
  
But he remembered all too clearly the odd conversation he’d had with Blaine about how Kurt still didn’t feel like he fit in with the Warblers, as much as he liked them all, how Kurt missed getting a chance to stand out individually or to show off the differences that made him special. Blaine had listened sympathetically, and waved it off when Kurt realized he’d been rambling and started blushing and trying to change the subject. At the time, Kurt had been confused by Blaine’s strange, pointed questions afterwards, about Kurt’s feelings and what he thought of the Warblers, but he’d been stopped from interrogating Blaine by the bell for class. It hadn’t been until rehearsal the next day that Kurt found out what he’d unknowingly given the go-ahead for.

The rehearsal had seemed normal at first. Wes made a few announcements, Thad read the minutes from the last rehearsal, and Kurt tried to look like he wasn’t contemplating pulling out his phone if the preliminaries went on much longer. But instead of the group getting up as usual and pushing the sofas against the walls at Wes’ signal to begin practice, everyone stayed seated except for David.  
  
David rose from his chair, prompting a low murmur of excitement from most of the group, and beamed at the assembled boys. “We have a special announcement to make today,” he had begun. “Some of you may have already heard this news, because certain members of the Warblers” here, about half the room and David sent pointed, laughing looks at Jeff “have issues with the point of a confidentiality agreement, but we ask that everyone pay attention anyway, even if they have been spoiled for the outcome.” There was a scattering of good-natured chuckles and light ribbing directed at Jeff.  
  
Kurt had blankly looked around the room in confusion, then turned to Blaine for a possible explanation. Blaine had just smiled warmly at him, though, before giving Kurt’s shoulder a quick squeeze. It seemed more demonstrative than the moment called for, but Kurt, though blushing like an idiot, wasn’t complaining.  
  
“For the first time in sixty seven years,” David was continuing, “the Warbler Council has requested permission from the Dalton board for a new Canary – and the request was granted!” An uncharacteristically enthusiastic cheer rose up, those who had apparently not been up on the latest gossip taking a second longer to respond before they joined in raucously. Kurt clapped along for the sake of politeness despite his confusion, but found himself worrying about Pavarotti and whether it would mean a change in status for the bird. A faint buzzing sound came from Kurt’s bag, and he had to tune David out for a quick moment while he checked the text, only for it to be a warning of having used half his minutes for the month. Kurt rolled his eyes and vowed to talk to his dad again about getting a better plan. He tuned back in just in time to hear “…at the soonest opportunity. Requests will be accepted starting next week, though those with special clearance will, of course, have full access before then.”  
  
Completely and utterly lost now, Kurt had started to elbow Blaine impatiently in the hopes of a recap, but Blaine was just grinning at him. For some reason, Blaine looked both proud and fond, as if Kurt had just achieved something wonderful. Kurt glanced around and saw, with growing confusion, that most of the room was giving him a similar look. He pasted on an awkward smile in response, but hissed out the side of his mouth, “Blaine! What’s going on, and why is everyone looking at me?”  
  
Kurt felt Blaine’s hand return to his shoulder. Oddly, Blaine was smiling at him even more warmly than before, to the point of nearly tearing up. Blaine squeezed his shoulder again, but only said, “Congratulations, Kurt. It might be an adjustment at first, but this is a true honor as a Warbler. You’re going to be so much happier.”  
  
Between the closeness to Blaine and the cryptic words, Kurt was more lost than ever, but before he could question Blaine or say anything else, there was a hand on his wrist. Kurt twisted around in surprise. David was there with two other Warblers; one was responsible for grabbing his arm, while the other was rolling up Kurt’s blazer and shirt sleeves and David was holding something he couldn’t quite make out. Kurt’s disbelief and confusion held him in place a second too long, and that second gave David long enough to hurry forward and plunge the object – a syringe – into his arm.  
  
Kurt shouted out, but he only had time to yank his arm away and clap a hand over the injection site before a tingling began to spread from his arm to the rest of his body. Within seconds, his head was feeling fuzzy and the world became blurred at the edges and began to tilt. Kurt felt himself going limp and slumping down against the couch. His last sight was of the Warblers all standing and cheering like the prep school boys they were, and then his vision faded to black.

Kurt wished yet again that he’d paid more attention to whatever announcement had started this whole thing off. Now he was trapped in a human-sized cage at his own school, and a group of boys he’d considered friends had stripped him naked before leaving him alone in there.   
  
Absently, Kurt rubbed at the still-sore patch on his arm where the needle had been jammed in. Now that he was upright, individual aches were becoming more obvious, and more worrying. A glance downward showed him that he hadn’t imagined it – the sore spot on his lower abdomen really was home to what looked like another tiny puncture mark. Almost numb from the bombardment of new terrors, Kurt glanced at the nearest mirror and twisted around to confirm that, yes, the similar aches on his lower back, each shoulder, and the nape of his neck were from yet more injections made while he was unconscious, and so were the areas of irritation on each ankle.  
Kurt clenched his jaw and made himself walk to the cage door. He’d feel terrible about everything that had happened later, after he’d escaped and gotten to a doctor to deal with whatever they’d done to him.  
  
Before he’d made it five feet, though, a sharp pain in his ankles dropped Kurt to his knees. A sound of pain escaped him, and he collapsed into a sitting position so he could lift a foot and see what was going on.  
  
Nothing seemed wrong, at first. The injection site was redder than before and more irritated, but there was no sign of a new injury.  
Then another round of pain shot through Kurt’s feet and ankles, and this time, it didn’t stop there. As Kurt watched, his uplifted foot began to twitch and twist in the air without his consent. To his horror, it began to deform before his eyes. The skin and muscles where his toes met the rest of the foot began to recede, making his toes lengthen grotesquely. Something was also going wrong with his toenails; he could see – and _feel_ \- them moving and reshaping until they were at the tips of his toes and shaped like claws.  
  
Kurt knew that his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t let himself shout in pain or panic for fear of throwing up.  
  
The changes to his feet weren’t stopping. He hadn’t noticed at first, but while his other toes were lengthening, the smallest one had receded until it was completely gone, and his heel had also shrunk a tiny bit. Kurt was almost hoping it was done, but his heel had only stopped changing size to change its angle with a sickening grind of bone and tendon that made Kurt finally yell out. When it was done, both his feet were held at an angle that would have allowed him to walk comfortably on his horrifying new toes, though they still obeyed his commands and Kurt could still at least move his feet around from their new angle.   
  
Kurt found himself whimpering and closing his eyes tightly for a second, wrapping his arms around himself as if it would shield him from the inexplicable mutations his body was going through. A sudden itch spreading outward from the tips of his toes made Kurt open his eyes again, though – he didn’t know what was happening or how to stop it, but he’d at least face it like a man.  
  
The itching, it turned out, was the result of scales growing to replace the skin from his new claws inward. Kurt’s breathing turned quick and faint, but he made himself watch the change progress. His remaining four toes were now nearly uniform in shape and size, although his big toe was somewhat shorter and, when the scales had reached up to the new junction of his toes and foot, his big toe gave another sickening grinding sound as it rotated inward. The change happened simultaneously to both feet no matter how Kurt tried to flex his toes to go back to how they were, and by the time it was done, he had three yellow-scaled toes facing forward, and one backward.   
  
When the scales reached the rest of his foot, they didn’t seem to progress at first – but only because Kurt’s feet themselves were beginning to lengthen, as well. The distance between his ankle and toes increased steadily, until it was nearly the length of his calf, thin and bony and entirely covered in the dull yellow scales – just like a bird’s foot, Kurt realized with a chill.

The realization sent something cold through Kurt’s entire body. He looked around frantically, again, and knew with horrible certainty that it was true. The cage he was in – shaped just like a birdcage. The structure he’d mistaken for a ballet barre – a perch. The bathtub – a birdbath.  
  
Kurt couldn’t stand up on his new feet, but after a few stumbles, he managed to get on his hands and knees and crawl to the cage door.  
  
“Help!” he screamed, no longer caring if he drew negative attention instead of a savior. “Someone, let me out! Help!”  
  
No one came.  
  
There was a prickling along his calves, and Kurt looked down with an involuntary whimper to see translucent protrusions, things that had to be feather sheaths, sprouting from his skin along what used to be his ankle, where scales and human skin met. He had to shout in pain as the sheaths fully emerged, pushing through his skin. It was over quickly, at least, and the sheaths were shed within seconds of their appearance. They revealed feathers that unfurled, scattering the skin of his lower calves with yellow and brown plumage.  
  
Kurt reached down to touch one of his feathers with morbid curiosity, but yanked his hand back at the silky feel, confirming the truth of his situation. His breathing was coming harder now, and sobs threatened. God, he was – deformed, now, and locked up, and…  
  
His hands tingled, and Kurt knew it still wasn’t over.  
  
He let out another cry and helplessly screamed for someone, anyone to come as the tingling intensified, and by the time his index and middle fingers began to lengthen, he was sobbing incoherently.  
  
Kurt tried to hold his hands together in hopes of stopping the change, but all that achieved was a crunching pain when he tried to squeeze his lengthening fingers, and he let go, flinging his hands apart with a sobbed shout when his index and middle fingers snapped together and each pair began to fuse into a single long finger.  
  
Kurt had to close his eyes now; the sight of his ring and pinky fingers shrinking into nothing was too much. Still, he could feel the changes progressing as he held his hands out and away from himself in disgust. His now-fused fingers had stopped growing and his thumbs had only shrunk slightly, but he could feel an odd release of pressure where his nail beds were – or, he saw as he opened his eyes to peek helplessly, where his nails used to be. An odd tight feeling took over his entire arms, and they began to thin, deforming and flattening. Kurt closed his eyes again with a whimper.  
  
He knew what was coming next, and it was almost a relief when the pain of feathers sprouting started; at least he wouldn’t have to look at his alien, bare arms and hands.  
  
Still, he had to grit his teeth unsuccessfully against a stuttering howl of pain at the sheaths poking through his skin again. The awful sensation covered a much larger area than before and it felt as if the sheaths just kept growing and growing to ridiculous lengths, forcing the process to last far longer than it had on his legs. When it finally finished, Kurt barely had time to breathe out before a series of painful snaps jerked his arms into a new position, realigning his joints. He could actually hear a rustle over his own cry as the sharp movement freed most of the new feathers at once.

There was a second’s stillness. Kurt, breathing hard, risked opening his eyes to see what had been done to him.  
  
Sure enough, where his arms had been were a pair of wings, extended as if about to take flight. He felt faint. When Kurt went to move what had been his right hand, the end of a wing twitched. He was nearly hyperventilating now as he stared at the expanse of yellow feathers, broken by a scattering of duller brown plumes.  
  
Kurt tried to put his hands – wings – on the floor so he could at least try crawling again before the changes went any further, but his new wings didn’t bend that way, and it took a second of experimentation to even fold them down against his sides and out of the way.  
  
A crazy thought whispered to him, and Kurt laboriously extended his new wings again, and flapped them. Nothing happened. He tried again, harder, but only generated a strong breeze that whipped his hair around and almost blinded him with the last bits of dust from the disintegrated feather sheaths.  
  
He coughed and dropped his head. Of course, he thought with another near-hysterical sob. Why would this change have given him a possible means of escape?  
  
A tingle at the base of his spine made Kurt moan in pain and disbelief. Wasn’t what had already happened enough?  
  
This time, the sting of feathers pushing their way out was more concentrated and went on for even longer, but when it ended, no further changes to the area were coming. Kurt let out a shaky exhale of relief. It was insane that growing a tail felt like a reprieve, but it managed to be the least horrifying of his mutations so far, and Kurt found himself almost glad of it.  
  
Nothing more happened for the moment, and Kurt gathered himself together long enough to yell, “Help!” again. There was still no response, but he kept trying, eventually even knee-walking his way over to the bars clumsily and trying to bang on them with his wings. The movement took an unexpected amount of experimentation to manage, since his limbs no longer responded the way he expected, and he found himself sore and exhausted within minutes. A few feathers lay around him, broken off by the impacts, and he slumped back, only to jerk up when his bottom came in contact with his sharp-tipped new feet. Kurt groaned and leaned forward instead to rest his forehead against the bars, feeling tears of fear and frustration gather in his eyes.  
  
God, what had happened to him?  
  
A familiar tingle started at the nape of his neck.  
  
Kurt jerked upright and stared unseeingly out through the bars. What else was going to happen to him?  
  
As the tingle intensified, Kurt broke out of his frozen stupor and beat his wings against the bars again, screaming wildly for help, for escape, _anything_. “Please!” he yelled, “Someone, anyone, let me out! Please, oh my god, help me! Help!” In the middle of a ‘help,’ he felt his voice catch in his throat. He kept trying, but only a few more words escaped before they started to pitch higher and shriller. It felt like Kurt’s tongue wasn’t obeying his orders, and syllables became harder and harder to form.

Kurt couldn’t stop screaming, although the noise no longer sounded human – something like a bird shrieking was coming from his throat, no matter how he tried to form words or lower his pitch. The realization that he sounded exactly like Pavarotti did when spooked sent Kurt into even deeper hysterics, and feathers swirled around him as he frantically battered himself against the cage bars.  
  
An accidental turn of his head showed Kurt his reflection in one of the many mirrors. He screamed again, the sound shrill and panicked, when he realized that he no longer even looked human – his reflection had always been a familiar constant from trying on clothes and outfits, critically examining himself from all angles, but this new appearance was alien. He had the wings, tail, and feet of a bird – a canary, his mind somewhat hysterically supplied – and now the voice of one. He broke down into sobs. It sounded more like grieving chirps now, and hearing himself only made it worse.  
  
There was a feeling of tingling again, this time from just above his pelvis, and Kurt found himself staring downward in resigned horror, tears splashing against his belly.  
  
God, he didn’t even know what birds _had_ down there, Kurt realized numbly. The tingling felt as if it was dropping lower, finally settling in his balls, and Kurt accidentally made a sound like a bird’s shriek when he saw them starting to shrink and retract upwards into his body. The skin around them pulled tight, aiding their disappearance, and it was less than a second before the skin behind his cock was smooth and pink, with no sign his scrotum had ever existed. A sharp cramping inside made Kurt curl into himself, but he forced himself to keep staring blankly down at himself, terrified and somehow too proud to miss whatever was happening.  
  
While his insides continued to feel like they were churning and pinching, his soft dick began to ache strangely. It started with another tightening of the skin where the base met his body, but then Kurt had to watch as his dick began to shrink, droplets hitting it and rolling off as tears dripped from his unblinking eyes. Soon, it was nearly flat against his skin – but then things became even stranger, because the area around his cock was altering, too, lifting into soft mounds on either side, filling the small space between his legs. Kurt could feel the process continuing farther back and out of his sight, and when he shifted his knees apart a little, he could see that the pair of mounds extended back towards his butt, and seemed pinker on the insides. His cock had almost entirely disappeared now, except for some odd protuberance where it had shrunk into, and there was a sharp pinch from near there for a second… And Kurt drew in a sharp whistling breath through his teeth as he caught glimpse of something like a very small recess into his body, and realized what the change had been. He’d never seen in person, and had looked away when the other boys tried to share around their pictures, but – oh god that made no _sense_ … A bird’s shriek rebounded off the walls again.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt was still staring at the changed anatomy between his legs when the sound of a door opening shattered the silent isolation of the room. His head shot up to see who the intruders were as he automatically went to cover himself – his clumsiness with his new wings, though, meant that he could only extend them forward and down to hide his nakedness from whoever it was, still leaving him mostly exposed.  
  
It was a surprise, although Kurt knew it shouldn’t be, when David walked in, then Wes and Thad. Even though he knew he should have expected it, it was still even more crushing when, a long second later, Blaine followed them in.  
  
Kurt caught himself giving an alarmed chirp at the first arrivals, but was able to bite back any of the other birdlike sounds that wanted to escape his throat – just seeing his (former) friends in his current, degraded state was a humiliation like Kurt could never have imagined. He wished he could stand up and meet them with as much dignity as possible, but his new feet and unhelpful wings wouldn’t let him, and he wasn’t willing to let them see his stumbling attempts. He settled for at least lifting his head as proudly as he could, sniffing away the tears a little.  
  
The Council and Blaine were all smiles as they approached, though, looking at him with genial approval, even though Kurt was sending them as fierce and haughty a look as he could muster. When Wes produced a key from his blazer pocket and proceeded to open the cage door, it became obvious that they weren’t just there to gawk, and Kurt decided that he couldn’t meet them sitting down.   
  
Kurt did his best to struggle to his feet after all, still trying to shield himself with his wings. It was ungainly at best– his balance was thrown all off and his feet seemed to have a mind of their own, wanting to grip onto the bars below him every time his ankle bent in certain ways. Still, Kurt felt better for trying, especially now that he could face the approaching Warblers eye to eye, even if trying to stand was leaving him swaying a little.  
  
Kurt automatically opened his mouth to demand an explanation for what had happened, momentarily forgetting the extent of the changes, and a series of angry cheeps left his throat instead. The other boys stopped walking a few feet from him and looked pleased at this. Blaine even nodded his approval and finally spoke up, saying to the others, “Didn’t I say his voice would be fantastic? He sounds beautiful.”  
  
There was a stab of hurt at that and Kurt snapped his mouth shut in mortification. For the first time, he felt deep shame for his own voice, and he wished it was possible to curl up and hide.   
  
Wes nodded in solemn approval. “You were right, of course.” He ran his gaze over all of Kurt, not sparing between his legs, although Kurt fluttered his wings in front of himself and pressed his thighs together in burning humiliation, as if it would help. Wes finally looked over to Thad and noted, “The entire change went even better than we expected. We’ll need to send a report to the headmaster soon, he’ll be glad to hear it.”  
  
“Are you ready?” David’s question to Wes cut off Kurt’s new source of alarm – how deep did this conspiracy he was caught in really go? – and gave him something entirely new to worry about as Wes replied, “Of course,” and Thad pulled something metallic out of the messenger bag slung over his shoulder.  
  
Kurt tried to back away, but only got two steps before he stumbled. He expected to hit the floor hard and his wings flew out automatically as if to catch him, but someone caught him instead.

He was too stunned to twist away for a second, unprepared for the sudden impact of warm cloth against his bare skin. In that fraction of a second, though, his ‘rescuer’ was able to fold his wings back down towards his sides again, and a second person arrived in almost the same moment to hold Kurt’s wings pressed tight to his body. That was all the time Kurt needed to regain his faculties, and he began to thrash in the person’s – David’s – hold.   
  
Before he could get away, the second arrival – Wes – was moving too fast to escape from, and Wes was slipping a leather belt of some kind around his wings and chest. Kurt tried to slip out of the loop’s encirclement, but was restrained by David’s arms tightening around him. Then the leather belt was tightening, too, as Wes pulled it snug around Kurt’s wings, the leather pinching and disordering feathers as it constricted over them. Just when Kurt was beginning to fear for his breathing in addition to his freedom, Wes fastened off the belt. It was an ordinary buckle, but Kurt glared at it, feeling a pulse of mixed frustration and despair as he realized he could have easily undone it an hour ago, but that he no longer had the hands to manage a simple fastening.  
  
David held him tightly in place even as Wes backed off, but the best Kurt could do was squirm around, the band around his wings and middle holding his mutated limbs secure and useless. David didn’t seem to be tiring, but at least didn’t seem to care that he had Kurt’s bare ass pressed against his uniform slacks, either, and Kurt took it as a tiny mercy that at least none of the boys had looked at his now-exposed genitals with any real interest since they’d first seen his changed form.   
  
Kurt was jerked from his thoughts a few moments later, when Wes came forward again with Thad. Running out of options and energy, Kurt kicked out at them as best he could, hoping to at least tear at their uniforms with his new talons or scare them back. He didn’t want to know what new humiliation they had planned. Thad did jump back a little, but Wes ducked out of the way and grabbed his ankle in a move that would have jerked Kurt off his feet if he hadn’t been held forcibly upright by David.  
  
Kurt found himself breaking the self-assurances he’d made and tweeting shrilly in protest, but his bird sounds were ignored. Thad reached into his messenger bag and produced the same metallic object as before. It appeared to be a three-inch-long pipe of some thick metal, cut in half lengthwise. The diameter was very small, too narrow to even fit a slim person’s wrist, and for the moment, Kurt had no clue what they planned on doing with it, although it could be nothing good. A second later, though, the small diameter made perfect sense, Kurt realized through his growing panic, because Thad was carefully holding it up against Kurt’s ankle and the new lower part of his leg was definitely thin enough to fit neatly inside. Kurt tried to kick his foot away, or slip out of David’s grasp, but Wes just grunted with effort as he tightened his two-handed grip on his leg. David also tightened his arms to keep him in place, making soothing noises all the while as if dealing with a frightened animal.  
  
Thad reached one-handed into his bag again and produced a second metal piece like the first – the second half of what had to be a cuff for his ankle, Kurt realized. This one had a half-circular loop attached to the outside, and Kurt had no interest in learning why that was. After quickly scanning the object, Thad nodded in satisfaction, then lined it up with the first half and pressed, closing the circle securely around Kurt’s ankle. Kurt was vaguely aware that he was full-on shrieking now, but there was no reaction other than from Blaine joining in David’s shushing, which still wasn’t enough to drown out the click as the two metal pieces joined together. There was another metallic click as Thad did something with the cuff that made a vibration run through it, giving an awful sort of finality to the sound.

Thad tugged at the cuff a few times, then pulled experimentally at the welded-on loop, but it seemed secure. Kurt had a terrible feeling, between the clicking and Thad’s reaction, that the band was meant to be a permanent addition, and he was still caught up in looking vainly for a means of removing it when Thad finally let go of the cuff. Wes followed up by letting go of Kurt’s leg, as well, and the surprise was such that Kurt just let it fall, unprepared for the new weight of metal above his foot.  
  
When he saw Wes crouching to reach for his other foot, though, Kurt was more prepared and drew it back, doing his best to jerk it back and around, out of Wes’s reach. David was ready, too, though, and constantly maneuvered his legs behind Kurt so that he couldn’t pull his foot far enough out of range, and Wes was finally successful in capturing Kurt’s other foot after a minute’s struggle. At least the fight had leave Wes with a few scratches on his hands and arms, and Kurt, while normally not inclined to violence, was able to feel some faint pride.  
  
This time, Kurt couldn’t make himself watch, so he turned his head away and closed his eyes, wishing he could also block out his hearing and sense of touch. As it was, he was still forced to endure the feeling of cold metal resting against, and then totally surrounding, the scales of his new lower legs. The sound of the two awful clicks again made the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach sink even lower, and the cold weight around his ankle signaled the second band was also fastened in place for good.  
  
“All done!” Thad said, with far too much enthusiasm. Kurt cracked his eyes open and lowered his foot back to the ground, unsure of what was coming next. Wes stood up and brushed himself off primly.  
Kurt felt himself sagging down in David’s hold – he’d nearly exhausted himself struggling.  
  
“Hey,” someone said near him, and Kurt turned his head wearily to see Blaine looking at him with a wry smile. “I’m sorry about the change to your – you know.” Blaine gestured downward vaguely, and Kurt found that he could still blush fiercely, despite the situation. “You should know that we took a vote while you were out. I promise I convinced a majority to let you keep your manhood at first. If Thad hadn’t split the vote by adding ‘cloaca’ to the ballot…” Blaine sent a pointed look over his shoulder at the Warbler in question.  
  
Thad stopped looking pleased and crossed his arms with a dramatic huff. “It wasn’t my fault that not enough of the Warblers would commit to the _stated_ avian theme of a ‘Warbler transformation.’ If we could have agreed to uphold the authenticity of the tradition, instead of-”  
  
He was cut off by David shaking his head from behind Kurt and firmly stating, “Thad, no one was comfortable with the idea of a cloaca except you. Absolutely _no one_.”  
  
“Will you all stop saying that word?” Wes interjected.  
  
“What, ‘cloaca’?” David said, grinning.  
  
Thad had stepped closer to apologize to Blaine for the result being unsatisfactory and insisted he had only wanted to find a pleasing compromise that would both make Blaine comfortable and uphold the will of the group vote, but Kurt put his head down dully and tried to ignore David’s hold, as unbreakable around him as another cage. He tuned out both Thad and the friendly ribbing that had broken out between Wes and David, the former already threatening to send copies of the latter’s childhood pictures to his girlfriend. It had been so familiar for a second that Kurt nearly wanted to turn and share an amused look with Blaine, before he remembered that he wasn’t sharing a loveseat with his friend and waiting for rehearsal to start.  
  
A hand brushed through his hair and Kurt startled, too surprised to jerk away. Blaine was still nodding along in a familiar dealing-with-Thad way, but he’d turned away long enough to start petting Kurt’s hair.   
  
Blaine frowned when Kurt finally did flinch away, but just reached a bit further to soothingly stroke Kurt’s bangs back into their usual swoop.  
  
Kurt thought about trying to escape again, but he was still too exhausted to move, so he had to just let Blaine give him a final pat on the cheek before he turned back to talk to Thad.

The constant chatter faded into meaningless background noise as Kurt stared into nothingness. David’s body behind him and arms around him had Kurt feeling uncomfortably heated, but he was already forgetting to notice the sensation of cloth and his own feathers against his bare skin. He wondered if this was permanent – the way the others were treating him didn’t imply a temporary status as some kind of pet, but he had to hope…  
  
“Anyway!” Wes’s sharp voice cut through Kurt’s thoughts and the ongoing conversations. “Voting results aside, we have a job to do. David?”  
  
“Spoilsport,” David mock-grumbled, but nodded to Wes and abruptly began to haul Kurt in the direction of the large perch.  
  
Kurt was too startled to move at first, but soon tried to halt their progress by digging his feet in and clinging to the bars on the floor. He didn’t know what they had planned, but he was certain it wouldn’t be pleasant. David grunted with effort and tried to lift Kurt up and out of contact with the bars, but Kurt hung on gamely with his mutated feet. It took the assistance of Wes and Blaine to lift one of his feet each, and he was carried kicking and squalling for the last ten feet.  
  
Kurt was determined to keep up the fight, so when his feet were lowered to the floor again, he tried to curl his toes inward to prevent them from gripping the bars, straining against Wes and Blaine’s holds all the while.  
  
He wasn’t prepared for Thad coming up to his side and kneeling beside Wes – at first, he thought that Thad was just going to help Wes hold him for whatever they had planned, but when Thad reached into his bag again, Kurt remembered his ankle bands. In a quick movement, Thad had clipped one end of a short chain to the ring of the ankle band, and was attaching the other end to the nearest intersection of floor bars.  
  
Kurt shrieked at the additional restraint, and was ignored. Thad and Wes both stood, watching with obvious satisfaction as Kurt tried to kick out, but found his foot immobilized. He tried frantically to pull his other foot away from Blaine’s hold before they could repeat the process, but Thad was already crossing over behind him and kneeling down with a second chain in his hand. Meanwhile, David was trying to shush him again and Wes was standing back and watching as Thad clipped the second chain to Kurt’s other ankle band, then the floor, holding him firmly in place with his legs splayed far beyond shoulder-width apart.  
  
If he still had his human voice, Kurt would be demanding that they stop, that they tell him what the hell they were doing. As it was, the only things escaping his mouth were inhuman chirps and screeches.  
  
For whatever reason, the council and Blaine had arranged Kurt facing the large perch, which came up to just below his midriff. A small, hysterical part of Kurt’s mind wondered how he was supposed to get up on the thing without a stepladder. He also wondered why they thought he’d ever be resigned enough to take advantage of it like a real bird would.

From behind him, David loosened his grip. Kurt tried to twist free completely, but soon realized that, with his ankles restrained, he had nowhere to go. Seeming to sense Kurt’s hesitation, David’s hands were suddenly on his back, pushing him gently but firmly forward. Kurt tried to resist, to no avail, and he found himself being bent over the perch – although, through a sudden new wave of panic, Kurt suspected it might not be meant as a perch after all.  
  
Kurt tried to squirm away again, but it was still no use. Wes had come in front of him at some point, and was aiding David by tugging his torso farther down and forward by the band constricting his wings. Once Kurt’s body was bent over the bar at more than a ninety-degree angle, tail in the air and blood rushing to his head, Thad was there with another chain, this one longer than the first pair, and clipped it from the leather band to the floor.  
  
When all the Warblers stepped away, there was nothing Kurt could do, no way to move out of the position he was forced into. A light movement of air between his legs made Kurt newly, intensely aware of his nudity. He was bent over the bar in such a way that his ass and altered genitals were completely exposed by his spread legs, and the shame of it made Kurt nearly dizzy.  
  
“Blaine, would you like to start?” someone said behind him, out of Kurt’s vision, and the position and vulnerability had Kurt afraid in a way he hadn’t been since he found himself naked in the first place.  
  
“Are you sure?” Blaine was saying, taken aback. “I thought it was tradition that only the Council could be first to perform the honors.”  
  
There was a second’s pause before Wes, Thad, and David were all objecting, variations on, “Well, yes, but this isn’t technically a ‘first’ according to the guidelines,” and “True, but you’ve been such a help,” and “This is technically a continuation of the preparations, not a ‘first,’ as such.”  
  
Through the terror, Kurt managed to almost roll his eyes. Some things, it seemed, never changed.

“Alright,” Blaine finally said, his voice humbly pleased. “Thad, could I have the…”  
  
There was a moment of quiet shuffling, and Kurt found himself straining his neck to try and see what was happening behind him. His own body blocked his view, though, and all he could make out beyond the yellow feathers was a blur of Dalton uniforms.  
  
There was a snick, a pause, and then something firm and cold was _touching his ass_. Kurt jolted, but the sensation just stayed there and a warm hand was laid on his lower back to the side of his tail, just resting there in what was probably meant to be a soothing gesture.  
  
Kurt made a noise that was meant as a whine of terror and discomfort, but came out as a quiet chirp.  
  
Blaine shushed him gently, and the finger at his ass – at least Kurt guessed that’s what it was – was moving, rubbing wetness around his asshole. Kurt tried to squirm away, but bound as he was, the most he could do was wiggle his tail in the air. Blaine just pushed down gently on his lower back, making movement more difficult, and persisted in making hushing noises as his finger drew firmer and firmer circles.  
  
Kurt could feel his face burning. His… hole was beginning to relax slightly under the ministrations. It was a foreign feeling – he’d never felt really comfortable touching himself there, though he was vaguely aware it was a thing some men did, and he’d assumed none of it would matter until college, anyway. He pushed the thought of college away determinedly and promised himself, through new levels of humiliation, that he’d get through this.  
  
He chirped again in shocked alarm when Blaine’s finger slipped to the center of the ring of muscles and dipped in, and he tightened around it involuntarily.  
  
“Hey, just relax,” Blaine soothed him. “You can do this. Just calm down and don’t tense up, and it’ll be done before you know it.”  
Kurt made a face at that, despite everything. There was no way he was making this easier.  
  
The finger withdrew, only to be replaced by something cold, smoother, and larger pushing in, and Kurt changed his mind about making it easier. The object was pushing in with implacable steady pressure, and tensing just made it _hurt_.  
  
Kurt clenched his jaw and battled the embarrassment and shame to relax his muscles, allowing the object to slip inside. It wasn’t much wider than Blaine’s finger had been, thankfully, and it narrowed after a second, forcing his ass to clench down securely around it as a much wider, flat base settled in place against his skin on the outside.

Kurt was vaguely aware of Blaine stepping away, leaving the plug stuck inside him.  
  
The sensation of being stretched was impossible to ignore, but its importance faded a little into the background when someone stepped around in front of him. Kurt craned his neck up awkwardly to see who it was. He immediately turned his face away to the side and snapped his eyes shut, though, when he was met with the sight of David undoing his fly. Kurt wasn’t even allowed the comforting thought of _this can’t be happening,_ because something terrible was already happening to him, and there was no indication the council had any intention of stopping.  
  
There was a warm hand gripping his chin, and Kurt tried to resist its pull. “Come on,” David was saying in a gentle, would-be calming voice. “Come on, you can do it.”  
  
Someone behind him flicked at the base of the plug without warning, and the jolt in his ass startled Kurt enough that David was able to overcome Kurt’s resistance. He easily maneuvered Kurt so that his face was inches from David’s crotch, his shallow panicky breaths landing on David’s half-hard cock where it was hanging out of the undone uniform trousers.  
  
“See, you can be good, can’t you?” David hummed. He made no move to bring his dick any closer, though Kurt kept his eyes and mouth closed tight just in case. “Just open your mouth, alright? That’s all, open up and be nice, no biting.” David’s thumbs were stroking Kurt’s cheeks as he held his head in place. Kurt was, in fact, thinking very fondly of biting.  
  
One of the boys behind Kurt started scratching lightly at the base of his tail, and Kurt startled a little, but refused to open his mouth. “Come on,” Blaine coaxed from somewhere to the side, “you’ll like it if you try it.” The hand moved on to stroking Kurt’s tail feathers from their root toward the tips, then returned to petting where feathers met skin. It felt almost pleasant, but Kurt bit his lips from the inside and tried to focus on the sharp pinch instead.  
  
“Didn’t we turn down the option of a beak so he could do that?” Thad complained. “I still think it would have been more appropriate if he’d been given one.”  
  
“Alright, then.” Wes sighed, then seemed to lean closer, his brisk, but not unkind voice coming from nearer to Kurt’s ear. “Thad is right. There is a suggestion in the Warblers’ charter that the new Canary be given a beak, but the headmaster confirmed that we could use our discretion. A lack of cooperation now will be taken as confirmation that you would have liked the change to go farther, and we will let you have a beak after we’re done today. “  
  
“I hope he decides quickly,” David said softly to the others – although Kurt could still hear him quite easily, he was _still there_ , thank you. “I’m, ah, getting a little cold here.” There were some suppressed chuckles all around.  
  
Kurt bit his lips harder for a second. He didn’t have to – he could get out of doing _that_ , at least, if he just refused now. He’d never have to do it in the future. But the price… Kurt shuddered.  
  
He wasn’t sure if it was pride, vanity, or desperation to keep every bit of humanity he had left, but Kurt slowly opened his mouth.  
  
Thad gave a celebratory whoop, Blaine patted him on the lower back, and Wes hummed approvingly. David said, through what was clearly a warm smile, “Oh, you are being good, aren’t you?”

A second passed, then there was a brush of warm skin against Kurt’s lips. He startled, forgetting to keep his eyes closed for a second. What he saw was David’s crotch, crowded into his field of vision, and a nest of dark hair around the base of another boy’s penis – the first he’d seen. He couldn’t see much of it, and shut his eyes again too quickly to get a good look, but that didn’t matter because it was already pushing its way between his lips. It was _strange_ – the closest comparison he had was a dentist’s fingers invading his mouth, but this was softer-textured, hotter, and not at all covered in latex.  
  
David was humming something encouraging at him. Whoever was petting his tail was back at it, too.  
  
The dick in his mouth wasn’t fully hard yet, and though Kurt tried to keep his mouth open wide enough that it touched him as little as possible, David was moving it around, rubbing it against the insides of his cheeks and his tongue, filling his mouth hot and earthy and salty. Soon enough, it was thickening and hardening, taking up more of his mouth until Kurt’s jaw ached from trying to keep it open enough.  
  
“Okay, here we go,” David said softly. He let go of his dick with the one hand and went back to a two-handed grip on Kurt’s head, palms hot against Kurt’s cheeks and thumbs brushing gently along his cheekbones. He used his grip to press lightly against Kurt’s jaws, forcing him to close his mouth a little. Kurt jumped when his lips came in sudden contact with skin sliding over hard flesh, but remembered to not bite down, no matter how much his mind screamed at him to do so.  
  
After a second of just holding the contact, David pulled his hips back, dragging his cock out through the press of Kurt’s lips, then pushed back in, rubbing against his tongue all the way. David groaned deep in his chest. “Oh God, yes, you’re so good.” He shuddered a little and repeated the motion. “So, so good,” he murmured.  
  
Kurt tried to will himself away, pretend he was elsewhere. The smell of musk and sweat and soap followed him, though, kept him grounded as surely as his bindings and useless wings, and he had nothing to concentrate on but the drag and grind of the cock between his lips. He was humiliatingly aware of the boys behind him and how they could see every bit of his privates and, if they cared to lean forward, the spit beginning to gather at the corners of his mouth and drip down his chin as David thrust in and out of his mouth.

It went on and on and _on_ for an eternity, and Kurt’s world slowly narrowed down to nothing but the hard flesh invading his mouth and the scent of boy invading his nose. The taste of skin and cock overpowered his senses as Kurt found himself almost drifting in the overwhelming sensation of the rhythmic thrusts. There were sounds, too, the rustle of cloth and occasional groans from above and idle words from behind, but they mattered less than even the hands clutching at his face, let alone the endless drag of wet skin against his lips and tongue.  
  
There was a sharp grunt from above Kurt’s head, and he was jerked to full awareness by the tightening grip around his face and a stutter of David’s hips. A series of quick, “uh, uh, ah” accompanied the sudden faster movements, and one particular thrust went too deep, making Kurt’s throat spasm and gag, but then David’s cock was pulling back and jerking shallowly into his mouth, quicker than Kurt would have thought possible.  
  
The tight grasp of David’s hands made it impossible to pull back or turn away, and Kurt had no choice but to stay still and take it as a sudden salty flood filled his mouth, spattering over his tongue and into his throat.  
  
He wanted to pull away and cough, but David was still groaning and jerking his hips weakly. Then Kurt’s face was being tugged closer, his mouth stretched wide around almost the base of David’s dick, just short of Kurt’s gag reflex. David’s cock twitched a few more times and there was more wetness filling Kurt’s mouth, and then David sighed and all the tension seemed to leave his body.  
  
Kurt stayed frozen where he was, eyes still clenched shut. He could feel David’s hot come filling his mouth and making him want to spit, but he was unsure if he would be punished for it. A trickle was already escaping from the corner of his spit-soaked mouth.  
  
“God, that was amazing,” David sighed, blissed-out and possibly unaware that he was talking.   
  
Then one of David’s slackened hands left Kurt’s cheek and dipped down to brush lightly over his throat. Kurt startled, but was held in place by David’s other hand and hips. “Come on,” David murmured. “You can do it, you’ve been so good…”  
  
Kurt squeezed his eyes shut even harder, holding back the sudden urge to cry. David’s hand stroked his neck a few more times, off rhythm with the hand still stroking gently at his lower back. Kurt swallowed.  
  
When David finally pulled back and let go of Kurt’s head, Kurt took a gasping breath and tried not to retch at the overwhelming taste of semen still filling his mouth. He hung his head down and pressed his lips together again. When his eyes cracked open, he could see the drips of clear and translucent liquid dewed on the bars below, and felt his stomach churn a little. He could hear and feel the vibrations of David doing up his fly and walking around to join the others, but Kurt couldn’t bring himself to do more than hang limply in his bonds and try not to spit until his mouth felt clean again.

“Second one?” he heard someone say, and a jolt of nervousness went through him. He didn’t like the way that sounded.  
  
Sure enough, the hand that had been petting him left off and there was a shuffle of feet behind him. Then the plug in his ass was being gripped at the base and tugged. Kurt let out a squawk of surprise and his head shot up in alarm, but the plug was already being dragged out, stretching him wider and wider around its middle and then diminishing in width until he could feel his hole clenching embarrassingly around nothing at all. The sudden empty feeling was unnerving, but not nearly so much as the feeling of something new brushing at him there a second later. It was hard and slick and unliving like the first plug, but, from the first push in, he could tell it was wider.  
  
Kurt fought with his instinct to clench down and keep it out. It seemed like the Warblers didn’t want to damage him, but that only meant they’d go slow if he resisted, and probably subject him to some new humiliation in order to coax this larger plug in.   
  
Cheeks burning, Kurt gritted his teeth and relaxed as much as his churning emotions would allow. He stayed still as the plug grew thicker and thicker in width, stretching his muscles more than they’d ever gone before, then abruptly narrowing. Kurt felt the cool, smooth base of the plug coming to rest snugly against his skin and knew it was finally done, although even the narrowest point of the base was stretching his ass as much as the widest part of the first plug.   
  
Kurt had to take a few deep breaths to keep from instinctively clenching down hard and hurting himself. It just felt so _big_ \- he was fairly sure he knew what they were getting that part of him adjusted _for_ , but there was a faint, hysterical part of him that worried they were going to force him to _lay eggs_ or something worse, and was almost relieved to think of the more likely option.  
  
“Wes?” someone said behind him, and he could hear the Warblers shuffling around.  
  
Blaine walked into his peripheral vision and crouched down at his side, carefully avoiding the bits of spit and come on the floor bars. “Hey there,” he said, smiling.  
  
Kurt tried not to look at him, even when Blaine’s smile grew a bit rueful and he began stroking Kurt’s back gently. “I know it’s a lot of new things all at once, but you’ll get used to it soon, I know you will.”  
  
There was the sound of a zipper and a rustle of cloth, and Kurt tensed. Blaine kept petting him, but Kurt couldn’t focus on that at all because there was a sudden unnerving sensation between his legs – something big and blunt and wet was nudging at his new opening, pushing between the folds of skin and rubbing there.   
  
Kurt froze, then instinctively tried to jerk his legs together. The bonds on his ankles dug into his scales and kept his legs spread wide apart. Blaine shook his head fondly and kindly advised him, “Relax again, it’ll be fine.”  
  
As far as Kurt was concerned, though, _nothing_ was fine, because the thing between his legs – Wes’ cock, his brain supplied, but the rest of him rebelled at the obvious – was rubbing harder now, and Wes was making a quiet sound that was either a hum or a moan.  
  
A hand on his tail was tugging gently at the feathers and making him angle his ass even higher into the air, and then there was a blunt pressure between his legs that increased steadily until, accompanied by a sharp pain, Kurt could feel it pushing _inside_ him.

Kurt chirped frantically, unable to process the alien sensation – this wasn’t something he had any comparison for, and he could feel his mind trying to reject the knowledge that something was stretching him from the inside, making its way into his body and filling him so much that he was vaguely afraid it would tear him open. But the pain receded a little as Wes pulled out for a moment, and Kurt started to breathe again until he pushed back in. This time hurt, too, but it was more of a sting of the skin around his… opening, and less of a fear of being rent in half.   
  
Each thrust went a little deeper than the last, and soon enough Kurt could feel the skin of Wes’ hips brushing against his on some thrusts in. Wes’ cock was farther inside than Kurt would have thought possible, pushing its way in deep in a steady rhythm.  
  
Kurt was hanging in his bonds with his mouth half-open, unaware that huffs of air and cut-off tweets were escaping him with each thrust. Blaine kept petting his back, occasionally reaching over to stroke a wing feather back down when the band’s jolting knocked it out of place. Somewhere behind them, Thad and David were having a quiet conversation about an English assignment.  
  
A thrust stuttered unexpectedly, and Wes grunted, then sped up.  
  
Kurt jerked against his bonds at the sudden change in rhythm – instead of deep and slow, Wes’ thrusts were speeding up and shallowing, until Wes was jackrabbiting his cock into Kurt’s body. He’d moved his hands so that his grip on Kurt was now a hand on each hip, fingers digging in and keeping Kurt firmly in place.  
  
Even with Wes’ secure grip, Kurt still found himself being knocked forward with each thrust before being jerked back onto Wes’ cock, in such rapid succession he almost felt like he was vibrating. The friction and drag on his new entrance and on the flesh surrounding Wes’ cock inside was enough to overwhelm nearly anything else. Kurt wasn’t aware of the low trills that were beginning to issue from his throat with the rapid fucking, but Blaine heard them and smiled fondly, signaling to David and Thad until they stopped to listen. Thad made a victorious fist-pumping gesture.  
  
The fast thrusting went on and on and Kurt found himself unconsciously backing up into the thrusts, chasing a sensation he wasn’t even positive that he _liked_ , though he did know that he _wanted_ it for some reason – he needed it to keep building and growing, winding something up tight inside him.  
  
Rational thought slipped completely away when one of Wes’ hands left Kurt’s hip and reached between Kurt’s legs to rub just in front of where his cock was splitting Kurt open.  
  
If the band around his wings hadn’t been chained to the floor, Kurt might have arched completely upright. Unfamiliar pleasure surged through his whole body, and all three sets of chains rattled as Kurt writhed against Wes’ hand, unknowingly letting out quavering trills and warbles.

The pace of Wes’ rubbing and thrusts increased until Kurt felt like he was going to vibrate out of his own skin. Though he tried to grasp at passing thoughts, he couldn’t concentrate on anything beyond the sensation of pleasure running liquid through his veins, something hot winding and building at his core. Finally, something in Kurt snapped and he distantly heard himself let out a melodic cry as his entire body spasmed.  
  
He was still jerking and shivering when Wes’ thrusts stuttered, and didn’t have the balance to resist the few hard thrusts that pushed him up painfully against the bar, Wes grinding in deep on the last one with a loud exhale.  
  
Kurt’s mind was still whirling in a haze of confusion and the aftershocks of pleasure, but he slowly came back to himself enough to notice when Wes finally pulled out. The cold air chilled him where Wes had been standing a second ago, the chill making him suddenly, uncomfortably aware of some kind of wetness smeared around his new opening and down his thighs.  
  
It was hard to tell with the blood running to his head anyway, but Kurt thought he flushed in further humiliation.  
  
Blaine was still petting him despite it all, murmuring warm approval to him.  
  
The murmurs stopped for a second, though the gentle strokes didn’t, when Blaine shifted in his crouch and turned over his shoulder to ask, “It’s Thad’s turn, right?”  
  
Feet shuffled on the floor bars behind Kurt, sending mild vibrations through the entire cage, and Thad, closer now than he’d been with David earlier, responded enthusiastically, “Of course. I took the precaution of bringing the exact amount of lubricant specified in the charter, so -”  
  
Thad was cut off by David’s incredulous, “The exact amount? Did you dole it out with a measuring cup?”  
  
Blaine blinked. “Thad, didn’t we agree that amount seemed excessive?”  
  
“I’m just following the regulations,” Thad said, sounding defensive. “Certainly you wouldn’t want to take any risks, either?”  
  
“Will you just get on with it?” Wes’ voice was still a little husky, but he sounded far more coherent already than Kurt felt.  
  
There were scattered, somewhat sheepish murmurs of “Right, right,” all around, and the floor creaked behind Kurt.

A brush of air was all the warning Kurt had before there were fingers gripping at the base of the plug in his ass and tugging. He gritted his teeth and tried to relax against it, the base widening and flaring his ass open. It wasn’t quite as painful as it had been going in, and Kurt tried to take that as a small blessing as it reached its widest point, then narrowed and receded, before the whole thing was pulled out with a humiliating sound.  
  
There was some more shuffling as the plug was presumably handed off or set down, then there was the sound of a container opening and some slick sounds. The slippery squishing noises continued for a good few moments. Farther away, David sighed in what sounded like resignation.  
  
Finally, Kurt felt a hand, still a little wet, land on the tensed skin over his hip.  
  
“Shh, relax,” Blaine soothed, rubbing briskly over his shoulder blades.  
  
Kurt felt like he had run out of energy to panic, so there was only a brief burst of fear when the head of Thad’s cock nudged at his asshole.  
  
It was bigger and blunter than the plugs had been, so there was still a sting when it pressed and pressed and finally pushed inside – after a few false starts when it slipped down or aside, instead. The copious lube did make the slide easier once it was in, though, awkward squishing sounds aside. Thad groaned and jerkily pulled back a little after the first few inches, the head of it pulling Kurt a little more open again before the whole thing was plunged back in.  
  
Kurt hung limply and let himself be rocked by the thrusts, a rhythm having been established very quickly. There was a faint, confusing pleasure in being so full, but Kurt tried to ignore it. He’d expected it to hurt far more, but the stretching had prepared him enough that all he could really notice was the foreign ache of fullness and the slippery barely-there friction of Thad’s cock pumping in and out. It was harder to ignore the occasional tingles that ran through his entire body every so often when Thad plunged in at just the right angle, and he found himself letting out soft chirrups at those moments.  
  
Thankfully, though, Thad seemed more interested in completing his task as a Council member and less interested in Kurt’s reactions, so Kurt was able to mostly let his mind drift away, his eyes staring unfocused at the walls beyond bars, only jerked back to reality by the occasional pulses of pleasure.  
  
Wes and David were having their own conversation, Blaine chipping in a thought every so often as he idly petted Kurt’s swaying body.  
  
Kurt almost missed it when Thad finished, so he startled a little when Thad stopped moving, then withdrew from him without warning. He squawked a little in surprise, but no one acknowledged him, seemingly caught up in teasing Thad about how abruptly he’d finished and Thad blustering in his own defense.

“Would you undo those clips, Blaine?” David asked after a minute of the friendly ribbing, still chuckling, as he knelt down just behind Kurt and unclipped one of the chains connecting Kurt’s ankle bands to the floor. Blaine nodded and got to work undoing the chain that kept Kurt bent forward. When all the chains had been unclipped from the cage bars and from his bonds, Kurt stayed where he was for a moment, shocked and sore and unsure if he was even allowed to move.  
  
Blaine chuckled fondly, though, and stood, handing off the length of chain to Thad before reaching down and wrapping his arms around Kurt’s chest to heft him up into a standing position. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he said, wiping the remaining tear tracks and spit from Kurt’s face with his thumbs. “And now you’re done for the day. We’re going to show you where all your things are, and then let you get some sleep, I know it’s been a long day.”  
  
Kurt stared at him blankly, but Blaine was already walking around behind him to join the other three and didn’t seem to notice.  
  
In the end, they undid the band around his wings and let Kurt stand shivering where he was as they walked around the cage and indicated what things were – the bar was for supporting him when someone wanted to use him, and the mats were for when someone wanted him lying down. His new feet would make it easy for him to sleep standing up, so what he’d taken for a fuzzy mat leaning against a wall was actually a mattress for him to lean up against. There were food and water dispensers for him, a sort of toilet behind a small privacy screen – although the other side of that area was still made up of open cage bars – and the sunken tub was essentially a birdbath where he could clean himself. The mirrors, they explained, were for his entertainment, and they would bring him more toys later, when he wasn’t feeling so over-stimulated.  
In all, it felt unnervingly similar to his first official tour of Dalton.  
  
They each petted Kurt on the head, back, or wings before they filed out, and Kurt was left shaking at the same spot beside the bar as if he was still chained there.  
  
It felt like hours until he could move again, and then Kurt finally was able to stagger around the cage on his new feet, frantically searching for a way out he might have missed before. The cage walls were entirely sturdy, though, and the door was one he couldn’t open without hands, even when he desperately attempted to manipulate it with his mouth.  
  
Eventually, Kurt slumped beside the door out of exhaustion. Staring down, he thought he noticed etching on the ankle bands that he’d been too distracted to see before. When he looked closer, he found that he was right – on one, the Dalton logo proudly adorned the front. The other had an incomprehensible jumble of letters and numbers, and he took to trying to decipher them in an attempt to distract himself from crying.  
  
He was no closer to figuring out what they meant by the time night fell, though, the light from the window above turning orange and then dimming away entirely, and Kurt finally resigned himself to using the… bathtub, needing to feel at least a little clean again. The relief of not feeling the boys’ bodily fluids all over him was momentary, though, because as soon as Kurt was done awkwardly bathing and then shaking the excess water off, his first wish was for a towel – and then, thinking about his towel led to thinking about everything else he was now locked away from, and that led to thinking about his family, and…  
  
Kurt cried himself to sleep that night, still crouched on the floor beside the birdbath.


	3. Chapter 3

The year went on, despite what had happened.   
  
Kurt spent that first week mostly alone in his cage, except for daily visits by the Warblers’ Council, sometimes with Blaine, sometimes not. During those visits, the three Council members would use him, one in each orifice. In the beginning, it stung each time, but by the end of the week, the constant aches were more prominent than the sting that came with penetration. When Kurt barely reacted to David’s cock entering his ass on Friday, Blaine, who had come by halfway through, praised him excitedly.  
  
It was clear what Kurt was being prepared for at the end of the week. The door opened and Kurt stood up straight from where he had been leaning against his “bed,” steeling himself for the impending violation. However, it wasn’t just Wes, Thad, and David that entered. The Council did come in first, followed by Blaine, but trailing after them were all the Warblers.  
  
Kurt found himself going pale, then flushing in humiliation. His attempts at covering himself did no more good than they had the first time, and within a few minutes, he was bent over the bar again, tied down like he hadn’t needed to be for the last two days. Although the boys who had once been his friends started out by just admiring Kurt’s new features and feathers, it didn’t stay that way for long. They followed Wes’ admonition to only use him one at a time for now, but by the end of the next few hours, Kurt was sore and actually dripping with – he didn’t want to acknowledge it.  
  
After that day, it was a little easier, as Blaine kindly informed him the next day that it would be – he’d only need to handle so many of the Warblers at once like that during parties and maybe exam weeks.  
  
Some of the Warblers largely ignored him when they weren’t screwing him, but a good half seemed to dote on him. They brought him toys – jingly things to throw around and the occasional magazine he had to try hard not to accidentally shred with his new claws – and delighted in playing music for him on the room’s speakers, encouraging him to chirp along.  
  
Kurt was still treated to the school’s latest gossip, sometimes accidentally, when two or more Warblers would come in at once and chat together while they waited their turn, but sometimes on purpose – Blaine especially, but also Trent and a few of the others, would occasionally come in just to talk to him through the bars, without taking anything more. He found himself actually coming closer to his visitor at those times, desperate for something that felt like a human connection. The effect was somewhat ruined by the way the visiting boy would also reach in to stroke his back or his hair or his wing feathers, but it was the closest thing to conversation he could hope for anymore. He knew that they only talked to him in the way he had once talked to Pavarotti, half for their own sake and without expecting a response, but he could at least chirp or interject a trill every so often to contribute.

The stress of winter midterms did come as a shock a couple months in; while snow fell on the glass dome above and gave a muted look to the light filtering in, boy after boy came into the cage and left Kurt a constant mess of sweat and spit and other bodily fluids. By the third day of tests, it even fell to the council members to keep Kurt clean and fed, as he could barely manage to drag himself to his food and water dishes, let alone summon the energy to chew food once he was there. Wes seemed harried and annoyed to be pulled from his own studies because the Warblers as a group couldn’t contain themselves, but Thad argued back passionately on behalf of the stressed-out Warblers’ needs and David seemed more amused by their excesses than anything.  
  
Winter break was a welcome respite at first, and Kurt spent almost the entire first half sleeping and recovering from the end-of-semester party the Warblers had thrown immediately after midterms were done. The second half, though, was a misery. Kurt had mostly managed to avoid thinking of his family lately, and of the fact that they would be celebrating Christmas without him this year, but the days of silence, broken only by the taciturn freshman Warbler tasked with feeding him every morning, let the thoughts come, and once that dam burst, Kurt couldn’t stop the flow of memories and fears. On a day he was fairly certain was Christmas Day, he was perched in a corner of his cage, sobbing weakly for what felt like the hundredth time that week, when the sound of a creaking door startled him into silence.  
  
“Hey there.” It was Blaine.  
  
Kurt wasn’t sure how to respond, so he remained where he was, turning his tear-streaked face to where Blaine was approaching, hands behind his back, while Kurt just stared at him dumbly.  
  
“So,” Blaine said, smile softening when he seemed to notice Kurt’s tears, “I realized that with everyone gone for Christmas, you were pretty much here alone, so I brought you something.” He brought his hands around from behind his back, revealing a bottle of glue in one hand, and a packet of rhinestones in the other. “I had to get permission from the Council, but I remembered how much you like some sparkle. I brought some along so you can have a real gift this year.” Blaine shifted the gifts so both were in one hand, freeing up the other to reach in and cup Kurt’s face, wiping the tears off his cheek.  
  
Before Kurt could do more than blink and take a shaky breath in, Blaine was making his way into the cage, conscientiously shutting the door behind him. Kurt had stood up by the time Blaine made his way over, but Blaine stopped short of him and didn’t try to lead him over to the bar or anywhere else. Instead, Blaine was laying his coat out on the floor of the cage and gesturing to it.  
  
“I need you to lay on your back for this,” Blaine explained. Seeing Kurt still hesitating, puzzled and wary, Blaine laughed and shook his head fondly. “It’s alright,” he said. “I’m just going to add some dazzle to your ankle bands.” He did some quick jazz hands in the air, as if to illustrate, and the move was so perfectly dorky, yet charming, that Kurt almost smiled.  
  
Maybe that, more than anything, made Kurt cautiously acquiesce. He treaded over to where the coat lay and lowered himself down onto it, although the motion was nearly impossible on his own and he felt a second’s fear on realizing he really did need Blaine’s help for it. Once Kurt was down, though, Blaine didn’t even bother looking between his legs and just crouched down and lifted Kurt’s ankle up across his knees so the first metal band was in easy reach.

Blaine chatted with him casually as he began gluing rhinestones onto the band, first in double rows along the edges, then in patterns in between the engraved lettering. When the rhinestones had finally run out on the second band, Kurt found himself almost enjoying their glittering new look, or at least the fact that they looked less terrifying and industrial this way. Blaine held his ankles across his thighs for a few minutes more to let the glue cure, and Kurt let himself almost drift in the sound of the familiar voice, once a source of such comfort and acceptance.  
  
Kurt had barely registered the shift in Blaine’s tone to something a lot like a goodbye before he felt his legs being gently lowered to the ground again and Blaine reaching over to help him up. Involuntarily, Kurt let out a musical sound of distress, and he felt himself spreading his legs in an unthinking attempt to keep Blaine there a little longer. Heat spread across his cheeks when Blaine just looked at him in shock, and Kurt could feel the beginnings of shame and a curl of self-hate creep in, realizing what he’d just done, what he’d offered willingly.  
  
He didn’t know if it was better or worse that Blaine eventually did give him that sappy smile that would have utterly melted him months ago, then unbuckled his belt. It was the first time Blaine ever used his cunt.  
  
  
The rest of the year was almost easier, at least compared to the weeks leading up to break and the break itself. Some of the boys rolled their eyes at the bedazzled bands when Blaine wasn’t looking, but most cooed over them, thinking it was sweet, and yet more proof of Blaine’s responsibility and leadership.  
  
This semester, Kurt kept better track of the date, despite the eventual boredom that set in with the awful daily routine. He knew when finals was coming up this time, and braced himself for another hard few weeks as the sky above the dome grew brighter and bluer, and the clouds pelted down spring rains instead of snow.  
  
As expected, finals week and the period before was exhausting, and the end-of-the-year party was even worse, since a number of the Warblers were graduating and gladly and enthusiastically took advantage of their last chance with Kurt. Kurt didn’t receive any of the hugs or slaps on the back distributed among the Warblers, but he swore he did see a tear in Wes’ eye as he pulled out of Kurt for the last time.  
  
Then the months of summer stretched ahead, terrifying and lonely. Kurt was still sore and worn out from the end of the semester two days in, when Blaine came in, practically bouncing. Kurt barely had the energy to wonder why Blaine was around after school was out and what he was doing visiting Kurt before Blaine supplied the answer in a somehow charming mixture of bashfulness and pride. “The council offered me a position, Kurt!” he gushed, eyes bright. “A new one, President of the Warblers! It’s new this year, what with Wes graduating and David taking so many intensive classes. They didn’t want so many responsibilities for the council on top of all that, so David and Thad are going to keep their positions and act as final arbiters, but they want me to take the lead overall!”  
  
Blaine was looking at him with such breathless excitement that Kurt had to offer him a congratulatory chirp. Blaine beamed. For a second, it was like they were sitting across from each other at the coffee shop again, sharing good news, and Kurt’s long-buried instincts rose long enough to make him absently hope that maybe Blaine’s new position would result in more solos for other people, namely, Kurt – but then Kurt’s remaining aches and the bars between him and Blaine reminded him of the situation and his smile back at Blaine grew a little shaky.  
  
Kurt wasn’t entirely free of visitors for the summer; it turned out that many of the Warblers spent time at Dalton over break as tour guides, or counselors for the handful of summer camps held on its grounds. A few parties also gathered the remaining Warblers together, and Kurt was faced with all of them at once, though they would all loyally stop to watch and cheer when it was Blaine’s turn.

The first time Kurt saw Sebastian was at the last of these parties of the summer. A few autumn leaves had been carried over the glass dome by the wind, and the long absences of clouds had Kurt remembering the smell of cut grass and leaves just beginning to dry out, barbeques and back to school sales and the shouting of teens in cars desperately cramming in the last of their summer debauchery while they could. Sebastian seemed unphased when he was shown Kurt in his cage, and Kurt had to assume that Sebastian had already been accepted to the group and everything had been explained. He didn’t like the way Sebastian eyed him up and down, though, or the widening smirk when Sebastian caught sight of his bedazzled bands and the absence between his legs. Kurt suddenly felt more conscious of what he’d lost than he had in many months.  
  
Sebastian eventually made his way over to Blaine, and Kurt could see, if he craned his neck to the side, pretending to put his mouth at a better angle for the Warbler in front of him, that Sebastian was being extremely forward, almost boxing Blaine in with his body. Blaine seemed amused but uncomfortable with the attention, and Kurt saw Blaine’s eyes flick in his direction at least once. Kurt also saw Sebastian notice, but he was distracted before he could observe anything else when a Warbler came up behind him and hoisted his hips into the air so he could shove in.  
  
The fallout didn’t come until nearly a week later.  
  
Kurt was awakened from a light doze by the familiar sound of the door swinging open, and he blinked himself awake just in case. Neither of the new arrivals were paying him much attention, though. Sebastian had an intense, creased look on his face and Blaine was shaking his head. “No, Sebastian,” Blaine was saying, “The decision by the Council was final, and ratified by a more than three fourths vote of the Warblers membership. You’re welcome to petition for consideration of a leadership position next year, but this year should be for learning to fit in with the group and understanding how it works.” His expression became more sympathetic. “Take some time to settle in. It’s going to be very different from your school in France, and the first year after a transfer can be a tough time, even without taking on extra responsibility.”  
  
Sebastian was rolling his eyes as Blaine spoke, as if he’d heard it all before. “So you’re not going to grant my request, even after I was so polite about it.”  
  
An uncomfortable look creased Blaine’s face, but Sebastian cut off his, “Sebastian…”  
  
“Alright then.” Something about Sebastian’s eyes became hard and flinty, and Kurt fluttered his wings in instinctive distress. “Since you just have to keep blocking my way…”  
  
Kurt found himself screaming and flapping hard against the bars of the cage as Sebastian drew a syringe from his pocket and plunged it into Blaine’s neck. Blaine dropped to the floor, and Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Can it, Tweety,” he yelled above Kurt’s panicked chirps, but ignored him otherwise and knelt down on the floor next to Blaine’s unconscious form.

Kurt was forced to watch helplessly as Sebastian began removing syringes from his bag and laid them out on the floor, then set about divesting Blaine of his clothes. Realizing what was about to happen, Kurt began screeching frantically, trying to draw the attention of someone, anyone.  
  
No one came though, not when Sebastian’s eyes roved over Blaine’s naked form for a few moments too long, and not when he carefully selected the first of the syringes and injected it into both of Blaine’s shins. The other needles went into Blaine’s lower back and each shoulder, and Kurt let out one last piteous scream when the last needle was injected into Blaine’s throat.  
  
It crossed Kurt’s mind briefly that Sebastian hadn’t injected anything into Blaine’s groin, and there was a brief flare of irrational jealousy in response, but Kurt ignored that for now in favor of vainly taking up his piercing screeches again in the hopes that someone would at least catch Sebastian before he left.  
  
Sebastian just continued to ignore him, though, and dragged Blaine to the cage, where he unlocked the door and thrust Blaine’s limp body in before Kurt could rush over. With the door secured again, Sebastian neatly folded Blaine’s clothes and stacked them beside the cage door, placing a note on top that he pulled out of his bag. With a last glance around, Sebastian gingerly returned the used syringes to his bag.  
  
“Have fun, boys,” Sebastian almost purred as he left, one last lascivious glance roaming over Blaine’s crumpled form.  
  
And then Kurt was alone with Blaine.  
  
Kurt gave up on his screaming, sure now that Sebastian had planned too well and there was, in fact, no one around. He moved as quickly as he could to where Blaine lay, and looked him over frantically. He wasn’t sure what he thought he’d see, since there was no visible damage to him, except for some inflammation around the tiny puncture wounds.  
  
Kurt knelt down as best he could and flapped his wings over Blaine, hoping to wake him up. It didn’t work. He tried nudging him, chirping at him and even, in a fit of desperation and too many improbably lingering romantic notions, kissing him on the cheek. None of it worked, though, and Kurt finally had to settle for nudging Blaine with his wings until he was lying in a more comfortable position.  
  
And then Kurt waited, dreading the moment he knew was coming.   
  
While he waited, Kurt masochistically stared at Blaine’s feet – he’d never seen them bare before, and at his hands and strong arms. Part of him hoped that Blaine would wake up before the transformation began, so Kurt could hear his voice one last time, but the rest of him suspected it would be kinder for Blaine to remain asleep until it was over.

Soon enough, it started. Kurt tried to remain detached as it happened and not to be sick, watching as Blaine’s feet elongated and became bird’s feet, the scales spreading over them to cover what was once skin, tan-lines from flip flops disappearing under yellow scales.  
  
Kurt winced at the sounds of bones stretching and shrinking and bending in new ways as Blaine’s limp arms began to reshape themselves, and he winced again in remembered pain as feather sheaths poked through the skin, opening up to let new feathers unfurl. Unlike Kurt’s wings, speckled here and there with brown, Blaine’s feathers were all a pure yellow. The last visible change was the tail, emerging from under Blaine’s lower back.  
  
When it was over, Kurt found himself sitting back and looking over Blaine’s new body. If he looked just at Blaine’s face, it was like he was seeing his old friend napping in study hall again, but when he pulled back, his stomach twisted.   
  
Kurt couldn’t stand it any longer, so he stood and moved to the other side of the cage, distracting himself by taking a bath, shaking water over his feathers and pretending it was just like the long showers he used to take when he was stressed from school.  
  
The first sign of Blaine waking up was a groggy-sounding cheep. Kurt tried not to look, but he had to, and he hated watching Blaine’s expression of sleepy confusion turn to shock and then panic. Blaine shot to his feet, or tried to, and wound up in a heap on the cage floor again. Kurt couldn’t help getting up and going over to him, offering as soothing a trill as he could, but it did no good, and Blaine’s expression quickly turned to rage as he screeched shrilly and beat his wings and body against the locked door.  
  
Kurt fluttered his wings in distress and chirped at him, but feathers continued to break and fly through the air as Blaine vented his anger and fear on the cage bars.  
  
It took a long time, but eventually Blaine collapsed again and stared out at his clothes, so close by but impossible to reach, then finally looked back at Kurt. The expression on his face, fear and anger and betrayal and absolute loss, made something in Kurt melt, and Kurt sighed and let go of the lingering resentment that had whispered smugly to him when he first realized what was going to happen to Blaine. Chirping once, Kurt went over and awkwardly put his wings around Blaine as best he could, enveloping him in silky soft feathers. Blaine’s hair was starting to spring free of its gel, but Kurt did his best to nudge it back in place with the tip of his nose.  
  
From the way Blaine sniffled and shook, Kurt knew he was crying, but Kurt just held him through it and tried to figure out if there was a way to communicate to the Warbler who fed him that Sebastian was the reason they’d lost their new President.


	4. Chapter 4

The commotion when the Warblers were informed of what had happened was exactly as chaotic as Kurt had expected, but he hadn’t expected them to fall so easily for Sebastian’s lies – according to him, and to the note “Blaine” had left, Blaine was so madly in love with Kurt that he’d chosen to join him as a Canary over Sebastian’s own objections. Somehow, not one of the Warblers picked up on the gaping holes in Sebastian’s story or on the fact that Blaine was constantly trying to communicate to them that it was blatantly untrue. It was made all the worse when Sebastian ‘bravely’ volunteered to take Blaine’s vacant position, and what was left of the Council accepted.   
  
When the conversations of visiting Warblers made it clear that he wasn’t going to be freed, Blaine sank into a depression. Kurt’s new cage-mate spent most of the time sulking in the corner until a Warbler would arrive, upon which he would occasionally still try to mouth words to them or make signs with his wings. Kurt wished he could do more to help, but the school year was starting and soon there was a steady stream of Warblers visiting to use him, especially the ones who hadn’t been around over the summer, so Kurt was kept unhappily occupied much of the time.  
  
Over that first month, though, Blaine seemed to acclimate to his new status, and he eventually began to join in when Kurt whistled tunes to amuse himself in his downtime. The constant company was odd for Kurt, at first; he’d always been used to a certain amount of privacy, but he slowly grew used to having another being constantly around, and it helped greatly that he and Blaine gradually worked out ways to communicate.  
  
It started with Kurt chirping out the tunes of songs of comfort when Blaine looked particularly lost, to which Blaine one day responded with the tune of Christina Aguilera’s “Thank You.” From there, they expanded their musical vocabulary, commenting on events with songs that were appropriate or ironic, or just using music to express what was on their minds. It wasn’t a complete replacement for the long in-depth conversations they’d once had, but the sentiment was there.

The next change came after one particularly rough day in October. Blaine had been more withdrawn than he’d been for a while, and there had been a Warbler meeting, so a good handful of Warblers came in, using Kurt two at a time until he was sore and dripping. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Sebastian hadn’t been there, alternating between watching Kurt and Blaine with a smug expression. As the last Warbler pulled out of Kurt’s ass and offered a go to Sebastian, Sebastian just sneered and said, “No, I prefer men.”  
  
It was nothing Kurt hadn’t heard before, but the utter disdain in Sebastian’s voice was hard to take when he was already feeling stretched thin by everything else, and he had to turn away quickly before anyone saw his blank expression crack.  
  
Apparently he hadn’t been fully successful, though, because when all the Warblers had left – Sebastian leering at Blaine one last time on his way out – Blaine cautiously hopped over and brought up his wing to rest on Kurt’s shoulder.  
  
Kurt shook his head and warbled the tune to Amanda Marshall’s “I’ll Be Okay.”  
  
Blaine frowned and started to sing a tune that sounded suspiciously like it came from Mulan, then stopped, apparently thinking better of it. Instead, he just shook his head hard. He chirped a few bars of “Under the Sea,” their code for “Sebastian,” then made a face of disgust.  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes and nodded, but it brought a tiny smile to his quivering lips.  
  
Blaine sighed and they were both silent for a moment.  
  
Then Blaine stepped forward so he was face to face with Kurt and looked him in the eye seriously. Slowly, leaving time for Kurt to move out of the way, he leaned in.  
  
Kurt let him.  
  
The kiss was nothing like Kurt expected, though he’d once upon a time imagined it quite frequently. It was, in fact, slow and soft, but it was also clumsy and there was an immense struggle to figure out whose nose went where.  
  
When they drew back, Kurt found his eyes were fluttering and he looked at Blaine, stunned. Blaine looked equally floored for a moment, but then his lips curved up in a smile and he blushed, huffing what would have been a bashful laugh if he’d had human speech. Kurt was frozen for a second longer, then his lips twitched upward as well and he leaned in for a second kiss.

The change in Kurt and Blaine’s relationship was noticed by the Warblers quite quickly, as Thad once walked in on them kissing again and whooped in some kind of victory. It became clear after a lengthy visit from Trent, who liked to talk to them, that the Warblers had been rooting for the two of them to ‘get together,’ although apparently Sebastian had just made an odd strained face when Thad shared the news.  
  
The year went on much like the last, though with some pros and cons added on – on the bright side, there were even more gifts from the Warblers now that Blaine was in the cage as well, and Kurt and Blaine were kept well-entertained during their downtime. The loneliness was less crushing for Kurt, too, now that Blaine was around to “converse” with. They also discovered that, if Blaine didn’t make the attempt too often, he could occasionally step in possessively and make the Warblers, with good-natured reluctance, stop using Kurt for a day. Some things had to be worse, though, of course, and those things were all named “Sebastian.”   
  
Sebastian would drop by occasionally when no other Warblers were present and gloat to Blaine, bragging about all the solos he was getting, and how he was a more effective leader than Blaine would have been, and if Blaine had just given into his advances, none of this would have happened. He also tended to mock Kurt when his mood took him that way, focusing on Kurt’s perceived lack of masculinity and especially on what he was now lacking between his legs. Both Kurt and Blaine learned that the best way to deal with the painfully on-point mockery was to ignore it, which especially rankled Kurt, since he’d learned long ago to defend himself with words which were now denied to him. The one way to actively piss Sebastian off, though, was to begin ostentatiously making out, reminding him what he was missing out on and who had gotten it. As a result, Kurt and Blaine, in their opinions, were soon kissing experts.  
  
The year dragged on, but overall, it wasn’t as miserable for Kurt as the first one had been, and he suspected that Blaine was adjusting better than he had since the Warblers refrained from using him. They each reminded the Warblers when it was the other’s birthday, resulting in little birthday celebrations for each of them, complete with party hats and cake, and this year the Warblers made sure to leave them extra gifts over Christmas. Slowly, Kurt began to hope his new existence would become more tolerable as time went on.


	5. Chapter 5

The end of the school year saw the farewells of more Warblers, and Kurt tried hard not to think about the fact that he should have been graduating with them. Blaine picked up on his mood, though, and did his best to keep Kurt’s spirits up, which earned him a watery smile or two, then actual laughter as the uneventful summer went on.  
  
Kurt and Blaine spent their days singing to each other and paging through the magazines and occasional book they’d been left, Kurt occasionally humoring Blaine and playing a version of soccer with him using a ball Jeff had given them. Warblers dropped in every few days to use Kurt, but it was a slower pace than usual, and it was pleasant.  
  
The unpleasant changes began once school started again in the fall.  
  
The first sign of change was the arrival of a coldly handsome boy about halfway through August, as best they could tell. He came into the room like he owned it, and surveyed the place critically before his gaze landed on Kurt and Blaine. Kurt shuddered involuntarily. The boy came towards the cage but made no move to open the door. They waited for him to speak, but the boy said nothing, and just looked at them for a long moment before nodding curtly to himself and turning on his heel with military precision, then he left the room without a word.  
  
Kurt and Blaine exchanged confused glances, but it didn’t make sense until school began and it turned out that the boy was called Hunter, and he was the new leader of the Warblers. Kurt and Blaine’s delight at Sebastian being demoted was short-lived, though, since it became obvious that under Hunter, the Warblers were beginning to change. Where they had once been an organized, posh choir, they began to pick up the air of a military organization. Visits to the Canaries became strictly scheduled, and more than once a Warbler used Kurt with far too much force in an attempt to finish before their allotted time was up.

The Warblers still brought gifts, but less often than before, and there was something less playful about them when they did. Blaine and Kurt were both troubled by the changes, Blaine for what it meant for the Warblers, and Kurt for what it meant for them. Then one day, Trent came to the cage looking more furtive than they’d ever seen the cheerful boy.  
  
“I really shouldn’t be here,” he said in a rush as he approached the cage, looking around the room as if expecting someone to jump out from behind something. “I’ve quit the Warblers.”  
  
Blaine actually gasped, and Kurt stood looking at Trent with confusion and concern – Trent was probably the kindest to them of all the Warblers, so this couldn’t be anything good.  
  
“I just can’t stay with them anymore,” Trent continued, “They’re not the Warblers I joined. I’m sure you’ve noticed.” Blaine and Kurt looked at each other and nodded. Trent swallowed hard. “I hate to leave you two like this, but the Warblers – they’ve changed. Hunter,” the name was said with surprising anger, “has started something new, he said we needed more of an edge now that we don’t have Blaine, and he’s giving everyone,” Trent hesitated, “steroids.”  
  
Kurt and Blaine both gawked at that.  
  
“He’s taking things way too far,” Trent said sadly. “I just can’t stay anymore. I’m sorry.” He pushed the magazines he’d brought between the cage bars and sighed. “I’ll miss you both.” He wiped away a tear, and then he left.  
  
The very next day, Hunter and four other Warblers marched into the room and locked the door behind them.  
  
Still on edge from Trent’s news, Kurt was both perplexed and terrified when he saw that one of the Warblers accompanying Hunter had a small stack of syringes in his hands, carried gingerly. He chirped to get Blaine to look up from the new magazine he was idly looking through, and when Blaine did, his eyes widened and they both retreated to the far corner of the cage, even though there was really nowhere to hide.  
  
Without bothering to communicate with either of them, Hunter flung the cage door open dramatically and waved three of the Warblers inside. They converged on Kurt at a leisurely pace, but became more purposeful when they realized that Kurt was not going to come quietly – he kicked out with his talons and flapped his wings in their faces, and Blaine joined in after a moment, obviously remembering that syringes never led to anything good.  
  
Still, though, the Warblers had the advantages of hands and numbers on their side, and they soon had a leather belt wrapped around his chest and wings, pinioning them by his sides. They lifted Kurt bodily and carried him to the front of the cage, where Hunter and the remaining boy were waiting. Blaine followed after them, chirping angrily, but they paid him no mind except to push him away every now and then.  
  
“Good,” Hunter said as the Warblers deposited Kurt back on his feet in front of him. “Now restrain Blaine, I don’t want him interfering.”  
  
Blaine’s squawking grew louder and more panicked as two of the Warblers went to him and gave him the same treatment, then secured the confining belt to the cage bars far away from Kurt and Hunter.  
  
Kurt was trying to get away from the remaining Warbler, but his grip was strong and unrelenting, and he managed to hold Kurt still as Hunter approached with a syringe in his hands. “Hold him still,” Hunter said unnecessarily, and uncapped the needle, then pressed it into Kurt’s lower abdomen.

Kurt screamed the sound of a bird in pain, and all the Warblers winced at the noise, even Hunter, who didn’t pause in his movements, but traded the used syringe for a new one from the boy holding them. Hunter glanced at the syringe, nodded, and forcefully plunged it deep into Kurt’s hip – deeper than the others, so deep that Kurt felt it scrape, then actually pierce the bone. His shrieks were even louder this time, and he didn’t bother to restrain himself for the Warblers’ comfort. After a long moment, Hunter took the needle out and traded it for yet another fresh syringe. This one was injected into Kurt’s lower abdomen again, though Kurt almost – almost – managed to twist free before it went in.  
  
That seemed to be the end of it, though, and Hunter left without another word, leaving the other Warblers to release Kurt and Blaine from their bonds. Blaine managed to clip a few of them over the head with his wings this time, but the boys all escaped and closed the door behind them before he could do any real damage. Once the Warblers were all gone, Blaine turned to Kurt with a look of concern.  
  
Kurt was still cataloguing how he felt – pain in his hip, still, but he could barely feel anything at the other injection sites, except for a slight burn. He was scared, but about to look up and let Blaine know that he was alright, when a burning pain started in his lower abdomen, cramping up and making him double over with a startled squawk. It went on for a few more long seconds before fading away, but Kurt stayed bent over for a few moments more.  
  
Blaine was chirping anxiously when Kurt straightened up again, and Kurt had no comfort to offer him – neither of them knew what the shots had been for, and it couldn’t have been for anything good.  
  
No more Warblers visited them that day, though, or the next, so they took it as a small blessing and enjoyed the days as much as they could, splashing in the birdbath and playing with the Warblers’ gifts together.  
  
Life went back to normal after that, though, with the Warblers beginning to come and use Kurt again on the third day. An odd pattern was developing, though. At first, Kurt thought nothing of it, but soon he realized – with an assist from Blaine singing the tune of a Sir Mix-a-Lot song – that the Warblers were only using his ass and his mouth, and left his pussy alone.  
  
Also, Kurt’s pelvis ached. He was afraid to find out why, but as the days wore on, he couldn’t notice anything different – until the day he spent longer than usual staring into the mirror, and realized that his hips had widened. He chirped in alarm, which brought Blaine running over, and as Blaine stared at him in concern, Kurt repeated the tune to the song Blaine had sung earlier. Blaine furrowed his brow in confusion for a second, and Kurt, exasperated, resorted to shaking his tail to draw attention to his larger-than-before hips. Blaine’s eyes widened and he bit his lip, then nodded, letting Kurt know that he wasn’t imagining things.  
  
Kurt tried not to cry, but it was hard. Did Hunter really need to make him look even more feminine? Coach Sylvester’s comment about “pear hips” circled in Kurt’s thoughts, and it took Blaine a good hour and four songs to assure Kurt that he still even thought he was attractive.

The other effect of the shots was hard to notice until a weekend day that Kurt and Blaine blessedly had to themselves.  
  
They were playfully splashing each other in the birdbath when Blaine made the sound that now sufficed for laughter and tossed his wet, curly hair, and – Kurt _noticed_ him. Kurt blinked, frozen for a moment. He’d always found Blaine attractive, ever since they’d met and even since they’d both been changed, but this felt different. Rather than respectfully looking at Blaine’s handsome face and sparkling eyes, Kurt found his vision trailing over Blaine’s broad chest and his abs and lower…  
  
Kurt blushed and made himself look up, only to lock gazes with Blaine, who looked perplexed. Kurt chirped in involuntary embarrassment and looked away. Blaine stepped closer, concerned, and Kurt waved a wing as if he could wave away Blaine’s concern as easily.  
  
When Blaine continued to look worried, Kurt hastily warbled the tune to “Everything’s Alright” from Jesus Christ Superstar, and Blaine seemed to accept it, backing off. They went back to splashing each other and Kurt did his best to ignore the way the water trickled down over Blaine’s abs.  
  
After that, though, Kurt found himself growing distracted by Blaine more and more often, and not in the charmed romantic way he’d become used to. He also found himself beginning to respond more to the Warbler’s ministrations, and most of them enthusiastically took advantage of that to bring him off at least twice per session. When he first noticed the pattern, Kurt was afraid of what it meant, but when he realized that he wasn’t losing his faculties, he calmed down a little, though it still continued to embarrass him. Still, none of the Warblers were so much as touching his cunt, and he found that a humiliating part of him missed that – he could feel himself getting wet and clenching around nothing at all when he was used in all the other ways.

The day it all came to a head was the day Blaine finally agreed with Kurt that their water tasted a little different than usual – there was a lot of creativity in the chirped songs needed to get that across.  
  
For once, Kurt noticed that he wasn’t the only one who seemed distracted. Blaine would seem to lose track of whatever Kurt had sung to him, and when Kurt made a questioning noise, Blaine would blush and look sheepish, his gaze snapping up to Kurt’s face. By afternoon, they were both on edge, and only two Warblers had come by all day to break the tension. It wasn’t an unpleasant tension, though, and Kurt was strongly reminded of how he’d felt when he and Blaine used to get coffee together and someone’s hand would slide too close to the other’s.  
  
Finally, though, they were crouching side-by-side to page through Vogue, wings pressed together between them and feathers mingling. It felt as though even their breathing had synced up. Kurt went to turn a page with his foot and lost his balance a little, distracted by the warmth and scent of Blaine’s body beside him. Blaine moved to steady him and the crisis was averted, but rather than looking back to the magazine, both continued looking at each other, nervous laughter dying in their throats.  
  
Kurt leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Blaine’s lips, meaning it to be a short thank-you, but he quickly forgot that and was lost in the soft familiar feeling of Blaine’s lips on his, and soon the magazine lay forgotten as they shifted to face each other, lost in the kiss. One or both of them gave a contented trill. The kiss went on longer than usual, even longer than the make-out sessions they held for Sebastian’s benefit, and soon both their lips were hot and reddened. Blaine ventured away from Kurt’s mouth and trailed more kisses down to his neck, sucking soft and wet on sensitive skin and making Kurt trill again.  
  
Kurt could feel himself getting wet between his legs, and a quick involuntary look down showed that Blaine was feeling the same as he was, his bare cock suffusing with blood and beginning to fill out. Kurt made a wanton bird noise at that without meaning to, and Blaine sucked harder. When Blaine raised his head, his eyes were dark and intense, and Kurt shuddered with pleasure. It felt like they were the only two people on Earth in that moment.  
  
Kurt took a deep breath and, without letting himself think too hard and talk himself out of it, tremulously sang a bar of music to Blaine.  
Blaine’s eyes went wider as he recognized the lyrics that went with the tune – “Let’s go all the way tonight.”  
  
Blaine looked for a moment like he was going to have second thoughts, but then a tiny smile twitched nervously at his lips and he leaned forward and pecked Kurt on the mouth. Mouth still pressed to Kurt’s, he sang the response, and Kurt almost felt tears prick at his eyes as his mind supplied the words, “No regrets, just love.”

They rose up to stand as if they’d arranged it before, and Blaine looked lost for a moment, glancing around the cage, before Kurt began backing toward a mat that had been left on the cage floor. Blaine followed and soon they were lowering themselves carefully to lay side-by-side on the mat.  
  
Kurt made a sound that would have been a nervous giggle in his old voice, and Blaine smiled softly at him, then leaned in to kiss him again before the sound even died. They were pressed close together, bodies meeting in a way that was new for them, and they were content to make out and rub their bodies together for many moments, exploring the new sensations they could give each other.  
  
Blaine’s body was hot and firm against Kurt’s and their skin, growing damp with sweat, almost stuck together as they rubbed together. On a particular rub, Kurt felt something damp and even hotter than the rest of Blaine’s skin fall between his legs and he let out an involuntary noise. Blaine chirped a little in response, looking unsure for a second until Kurt leaned impossibly closer and kissed him harder. Then Blaine’s hips stuttered forward, and Kurt’s belly felt like it was twisting up even tighter, the place between his legs letting out a little gush of hot fluid.  
  
Soon they were grinding together like that, Blaine throwing one leg over both of Kurt’s and pushing his cock between Kurt’s wet thighs, which Kurt clamped together around it, partly for Blaine’s pleasure and partly for his own as the hot flesh rubbed against him and sparked nerves that had been neglected for what felt like ages. On one particular slide, the head of Blaine’s cock rubbed and almost caught on the entrance to Kurt’s cunt, and Kurt trilled a high note. Blaine, breathing heavily, repeated the angle again and again until Kurt was thrusting his hips as best he could and nearly unseating Blaine from between his thighs in the process.  
  
Unable to think coherently enough to find a song that requested what he wanted, Kurt let out a soft cry and pulled back from their messy kissing to look Blaine in the eye pleadingly, wiggling his hips as close to Blaine as he could. Thankfully, Blaine seemed to understand, and he pulled back a little only to thrust forward. His cock brushed past Kurt’s cunt and slid forward over his asshole instead, and Kurt chirped in arousal and disappointment. Blaine’s eyebrows were furrowed and he was looking down between their bodies. Another try, and Blaine missed again. Kurt was about to roll them both over so that he could try from on top of Blaine, but on the third thrust, Blaine managed to lodge the head of his cock in the opening to Kurt’s cunt, and with careful little jolts of his hips, he was able to seat himself fully in Kurt’s body.

Kurt’s back arched and he felt like he could come just from the feeling of finally being full again and from the look of pleasure and awe on Blaine’s face. Kurt kissed Blaine, both of them breathing heavily into the kiss. Blaine slowly jerked his hips back, then forward again, moving in tiny increments as if afraid of slipping out, but the movements still sent electricity through Kurt’s spine as the pressure and friction increased. Kurt let out a cheep that he hoped would be interpreted as ‘more,’ and Blaine apparently got the message, because he curved his top leg tighter around Kurt’s legs and began circling his hips jerkily. The movements were small and uneven, but Kurt still panted and did his best to push forward into Blaine’s thrusts.  
  
Blaine paused after a moment and made a little chirp of frustration, then leaned in to kiss Kurt, pressing forward with his whole body until Kurt had been urged over onto his back. Blaine followed and laid on top of him, but his cock slipped out with the movement, making Kurt cry out in dismay. Blaine kissed him again, though, and wriggled his hips until his cock was back in place and he slid into Kurt’s cunt, the move easier than it had been at first.  
  
Blaine was a hot and heavy and sweat-sticky weight on top of Kurt. The feeling was more comforting than confining, though, so Kurt let himself spread his thighs wide so Blaine could lie between them easily. It took a minute for Blaine to figure out how to get any leverage without arms, but soon Blaine was grinding his cock into Kurt at a quick pace, his buttocks clenching with the thrusts. Kurt gasped and chirped and wrapped his legs around Blaine’s hips, trying to draw him even closer and deeper. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed in the empty room, but Kurt couldn’t bring himself to care or be embarrassed, not when Blaine felt so sweet and good over him and inside him. Kurt’s bird feet clenched into little fists on either side of Blaine’s lower back, jerking in the air with Blaine’s thrusts.  
  
Blaine’s pubic bone kept bumping up against Kurt above where he was split on Blaine’s cock, and it was a final rub there, as well as the constant friction and fullness below, that finally pushed Kurt over the edge. His vision went white and he was dimly aware of a long cry escaping his lips as Blaine kept pushing into him through it. Not a second later, Blaine’s thrusts grew even jerkier and he was seating himself more deeply than ever and holding himself there, his whole body spasming above Kurt’s.  
  
They lay together, recovering, until Blaine’s cock had shrunk down inside the warmth of Kurt’s cunt and they both grew too sensitive. Then Blaine rolled off Kurt so that they were laying side-by-side, and whistled into the air, seemingly in awe. They turned their heads to look at each other, exhausted little smiles creasing their lips. Kurt and Blaine kissed again, not needing words to convey what they meant.

Visits from the Warblers continued to be sparse after that, and Kurt would worry more about it if he weren’t so occupied by filling his days with Blaine and their new way of making each other feel good. Many mornings began with Blaine sleepily pushing inside Kurt as they spooned, and they took to kissing and exploring each others’ bodies every night once the last sunbeams had retreated up the wall and the room had gone dark. Kurt wondered sometimes if he should not enjoy sex, not after the way he was continually used by the Warblers, but something about the way Blaine looked at him and kissed him made it feel like a completely different act, and Kurt found himself actually wanting to feel Blaine inside most hours of the day.  
  
When the Warblers did come to him, their visits were still shorter than they had been before Hunter’s arrival, and felt almost perfunctory. Kurt was sure that their dicks even felt smaller inside him. Through song and some gesturing, Blaine and Kurt decided that it had to be the effect of the steroids. Hunter himself still came every now and then, waving any waiting Warblers aside to take his turn with Kurt’s ass, but each time he did, he ran his hands under Kurt’s abdomen and seemed to be feeling it up.  
  
As a result, Kurt was aware of the first minute changes. His belly was beginning to swell, making it look at first as if he’d eaten a large meal, but soon it was unmistakable. Somehow, he was pregnant. Blaine knew almost as soon as Kurt did, and only a few pregnancy-related songs had to be chirped back and forth before they realized why none of the Warblers had been using Kurt’s cunt lately, and how the odd taste in the water probably contributed to things.  
  
Kurt refused to ‘talk’ to Blaine for a day once he was forced to realize what was going on, staying in a corner and brushing off Blaine’s warbled attempts at communication. He knew, logically, that it wasn’t Blaine’s fault, and to be honest, Kurt mostly blamed himself for not connecting the dots sooner. He hated what had been done to his body, and was terrified to think of what would happen in the future – he was sure that his belly was expanding much faster than it should during a normal pregnancy, and he wasn’t sure what that meant.  
  
Soon, though, Kurt was ‘speaking’ with Blaine again, even apologizing to him in song. Blaine seemed to understand, though, and Kurt saw his own fear mirrored in Blaine’s eyes when he looked at Kurt’s swollen abdomen.  
  
Kurt had no hands to feel his own stomach, but he could sense it when the feeling inside him changed. It had been hard, but still had some give to it, but one day it became even harder, and there was an insistent pressure between his legs, as if he needed to pee but not quite. Then a contraction ran through Kurt’s body and he squawked.

The door opened and a Warbler entered, but Kurt and Blaine paid him no mind. Blaine was at Kurt’s side as soon as the pain started, and he urged Kurt to lie down on one of the mats as the Warbler at the door paused, stared, then turned and ran out of the room, the door slamming unheeded behind him. Kurt’s body shook at the feeling of something pressing hard at his cunt, but from the inside.  
  
A panicked glance between them, and Kurt and Blaine realized that Kurt must be about to give birth. Blaine took exaggerated deep breaths, urging Kurt to imitate him, and Kurt did his best to copy him. Kurt frantically tried to remember everything he’d heard from movies and female friends about childbirth, but he came up empty, except for the fact that he needed to keep breathing, so he did.  
  
The door slammed against the wall, startling Blaine and Kurt into looking up for a second, and it admitted what looked like all of the Warblers. Kurt chirped in anxiety and Blaine glared at them and moved to shield Kurt’s body as best he could. The Warblers just crowded around the cage from all directions, though, making it impossible to screen Kurt from all of them. There was something of the Warblers’ old enthusiasm in their jostling and whispers, but Kurt and Blaine couldn’t pay them any more attention, Blaine because Kurt had just turned pale and was shaking again, Kurt because there was another strong cramp rippling through his belly and he could feel himself beginning to stretch.  
  
Blaine resumed his deep breathing and Kurt tried to follow suit, although there was something hard and warm and huge pushing its way out of him. It pressed hard against his insides, stretching him wide and wider, and Kurt let out a pitiful bird’s cry, despite his attempts to keep breathing and keep his calm in front of the Warblers. Soon Kurt felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside, and he could feel something slick and unyielding sliding past his resistance and out of his body.  
  
Blaine’s eyes, seemingly involuntarily, flicked downwards for a second, away from Kurt’s face, and they went wide. Kurt’s breathing hitched, in worry as much as in pain, and Blaine slowly looked back to his face, still looking shocked. Kurt shrilled in panic, and Blaine shook himself and began taking deep breaths again, looking at Kurt intently, but with an edge of fear. Kurt tried his best to breathe deeply, as well, but it did little to distract him from the extreme stretch of his cunt around something that certainly didn’t feel like a baby. It got wider and wider, making Kurt shriek as it got to its largest diameter, but blessedly seemed to taper after that, letting his abused cunt relax and contract again as the thing inside finally slipped all the way out.

There was a small thump as the thing hit the mat, and the Warblers all cheered. Blaine stared at it, but Kurt couldn’t bring himself to do more than slump weakly against the mat, breathing hard and making a sound that would have been a whimper if he’d been able.  
  
The door to the cage opened and Blaine whirled around to face Hunter and two Warblers. They marched across the cage’s floor towards Kurt and Blaine, and one of the Warblers shoved Blaine roughly to the side as Hunter bent down between Kurt’s legs. Kurt shrieked and tried to sit up despite himself, but Hunter was too fast, and quickly scooped up the object that had left Kurt – an egg, slightly larger than a newborn baby. Kurt was torn between staring and trying to get the egg back, some instinct telling him he needed to keep it near him and out of Hunter’s arms, but the second Warbler was holding his limp body down as Hunter stood up and exited the cage with the egg. Without knowing why, Kurt let out a loud cry of loss, and Blaine did the same.  
  
The two Warblers let them go, the one holding Blaine shoving him back slightly, and they left the cage, shutting the door securely behind them. Kurt sobbed. Blaine turned to him with tears in his eyes and, ignoring the Warblers now clustering around the egg as Hunter left the room with it, and he knelt down beside Kurt again, kissing him fiercely. They cried together all afternoon for reasons they couldn’t quite understand.

  
Kurt had thought it was over after that day, and that his body would slowly return to normal, but the feeling of pressure from the inside started again the next day, and the days after that. In all, Kurt laid five eggs, each more wearying than the last, and all of them were taken away by Hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, it got weirder.

**Author's Note:**

> Someday I'll write more consensual stuff, I swear.


End file.
